The Way I Loved You: Remastered
by Catty Jay
Summary: Rachel Berry has a steady and uncomplicated relationship with her boyfriend, Finn, the star quarterback of the McKinley High Titans. It was easy with Finn. Simple even. Enter Santana Lopez, Rachel's spontaneous and infuriating wake up call.
1. Chapter 1

_**Dedicated to B.**_

_**On the third anniversary of being published I wanted to breathe new life into this much loved story, the first one I ever told. This is my gift to the many fans of the original and to the new readers this story will hopefully gain…**_

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**Chapter 1: Who Wouldn't Want To Be Me**

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_ Soul mates._

_ If you were to ask anyone at McKinley High, this would be the response. It was a simple enough response to an easy enough question. There was nothing complicated or difficult about it. Just like the couple it was used to describe. _

_ Simple. Easy. Uncomplicated._

* * *

"Are you still coming over for dinner with my dads tonight?" Rachel had pulled in close to whisper softly in her boyfriend's ear. Finn. The love her life. Her everything. She could see him smile from the way his cheeks moved closer to his eyes. It was homeroom, the first of many classes the pair shared together. She glanced to the front of the room, making sure Mr Schuester had his head down and away from the third row. The young teacher was marking attendance near the large whiteboard, not paying either of them any mind.

"Wouldn't miss it." Finn placed an affectionate kiss to the top of her hair. Rachel smiled in return, slipping an arm through his and resting her head against his shoulder. She exhaled an easy breath and pressed her cheek further into his letterman jacket, smelling his comfortable scent. Most of their fellow students were used to seeing the couple like this; close, attached. Teachers had long ago learnt to turn a blind eye as well, not bothering to reprimand them or tie them to any of the school rules.

Kurt Hummel however, Rachel's best friend, had started making gagging noises at them from the row opposite. The boy turned his perfect lips down in mock disgust, but let a smirk slip when Finn narrowed his eyes at him in confusion. Rachel merely grinned, and turned to the front in time to hear the Principal announce the daily notices over the school's PA system.

It hadn't always been like this. Easy. Simple. There was once a time when someone like Rachel Berry, all book smarts and natural talent, would've been avoided like the plague; a social outcast from the pretty and the popular. And there was also a time when someone like Finn Hudson, the star of McKinley's football team, would have only ever spoken to Rachel to hurl a snide remark her way from the back row of their history class. But ever since the McKinley High Art Department, namely the Glee Club, had begun winning more national titles than their cheer squad, it had become socially acceptable for the couple to be exactly who they were. The quarterback and the choir geek. And very much in love.

The bell sounded midway through Principal Figgins announcements, everyone retrieving their book bags and shuffling out of the room. Grabbing Finn's hand, Rachel led them to their English class on the other side of the grounds. As they walked down the hall hand in hand, they received the usual greetings and smiles from their peers. Even freshman knew who they were, a group of younger teens parting like the Red Sea for the juniors as they walked by.

The morning was more or less uneventful. Double English and Math; two classes Rachel shared with Finn. She sat in the front row of Mr Zillmere's English class, flipping through the assigned text she'd finished over the Christmas break; The Scarlet Letter. Finn's best friend, Noah Puckerman, hadn't even read past the front cover, the boy blowing a bored breath over the loose pages that lay open on his desk while their teacher scribbled on the blackboard.

Rachel found the book interesting enough, if a little light on. She never did feel challenged in the core curriculum subjects, being able to sleep through them if need be and still get straight A's. Rachel excelled in everything, keeping a steady 4.0 GPA since freshman year. But her real passion lied within the Art subjects, such as Music and Drama. Something about getting to be someone else, even for just a few short moments, or singing your heart and soul and not feeling self-conscious, was liberating for Rachel. Under all the stress of being the Golden Girl, she could get out on stage and just let it all float away, she was in her element. No expectations. No bullshit. Just her, a stage, and a spotlight.

It was freeing.

Finn had told her it was the same for him and football. When it was the fourth quarter with 10 seconds to go and the ball was beneath his fingertips, he could let it all fall away. He told her once that it made him feel like he could fly. Even though they came from different worlds and had different passions, Rachel could relate. She was never really a sports fan, but being the devoted girlfriend she attended every game with Finn's mother, Carole, and Kurt's father, Burt, just as Finn attended every music solo and drama performance, sitting front row centre with that unruly mop of hair and that lopsided grin.

Looking across the lunch table at him now, Rachel could see their lives together. The big house, the three kids, the golden retriever. Only of course after a successful film and Broadway career, and after Finn had lived his dreams of playing in the NFL. But someday.

Rachel smiled at him when he caught her staring, thinking to herself how lucky she was in all she had. Thinking how easy it was to be with Finn. It was like breathing. They never fought over anything, or disagreed. They were so similar, yet so different. They just worked.

She turned her attention to Kurt sitting next to her, who was toying with his garden salad and staring dreamily at the jocks across the cafeteria. They were throwing a football between themselves, their hollering and wolf whistles echoing around the lunchroom. His attention appeared to be consumed by Sam Evans, a blonde boy who had transferred to McKinley first semester of junior year and who played on the football team with Finn.

"Earth to Kurt." Rachel waved her hand in front of the boy's face, causing him to jerk back out of his revere.

"What'd I miss?"

Rachel chuckled at her friend, "I was about to say we should get to Drama, the bell's going to ring soon."

Standing up from the lunch table, Rachel lent down and gave Finn a light peck on the lips, before leaving to get to class with Kurt in tow. They walked down the hall as it slowly filled up with students, chatting to each other as they went. And it wasn't just Rachel. All her friends seemed to elicit the same reaction from the student body. It was subtle, like gravity. Some students were drawn to them, lifting their heads as they passed, while others seemed to stand closer to their lockers, unconsciously giving them more room.

Rachel still remembered what freshman year was like for her and her friends. The daily slushie facials and the dumpster tosses. So it was a status she never wished to give up, and one that thankfully didn't appear to be changing anytime soon.

The friends walked into fifth period Drama class just as the bell rang. She would usually despise any kind of curriculum that strayed from the state required teaching, but something about Ms Holiday's methods always seemed inspired to Rachel, rather than contrived. She always had a way of looking at things from the students' perspective. While it was important they learnt the classics such as Shakespeare, Ms Holiday was adamant that Wicked, Rent, and Rocky Horror were just as important, if not more relevant to today's youth.

Rachel took her usual seat around the edge of the classroom next to Kurt. Their teacher preferred that the seating arrangement be a circle of chairs, no corners or rows, so that all students were equal. And she even joined the circle too as she had no desk of her own.

"Okay guys, were gonna try a bit of a role playing exercise today," Ms Holiday exclaimed with an excited grin as she sat cross-legged on her plastic chair. All her students had taken their seats, some retrieving notebooks from their bags to begin the day's lesson. "So break off into teams of tw-"

"Sorry I'm late, Holly," came a voice from behind Rachel. "Figgins got his panties in a bunch about my little fieldtrip to Taco Bell." The late arrival plunked herself down in the spare seat next to Rachel, dropping her satchel on the ground near her feet; just Rachel's luck that it was the only seat left.

"So nice of you to join us. Class, this is Santana Lopez, she just transferred from my Spanish class."

She was met with timid murmurs and polite smiles, most of the class having heard of Santana or having at least seen her around campus. Rachel hadn't had the privilege of sharing a class with the girl in her three years of high school and she had wanted to keep it that way. She was everything that Rachel wasn't. Impulsive. Truant. And she had a blatant disregard for any school rule.

"So, as I was saying pair up and lets get started." People begun to eye each other off, making wordless agreements to work together. Rachel was about to turn to Kurt when Ms Holiday piped up, "Actually, Rachel, since you're at the top of the class I figured you could show Santana the ropes."

Kurt gave her an apologetic look and stood gracefully from his chair, pairing with their friend, Mercedes, instead. Rachel gritted her teeth and stared after him, incredulous.

_Traitor._

"I am not pairing up with her, Ms Holiday," Rachel said in a hushed tone. She glanced sideways at Santana, who was currently filing her nails in a rather bored manner, not paying any attention to the exchange between student and teacher. "She clearly doesn't care about this class, and I'm not going to let her drag down _my_ GPA just so she can feel welcome."

"It's just one exercise, Rachel," Holly tried to reason. "You can go back to ignoring each other after the hour is up. Or whatever it is you kids do these days."

Rachel heaved a sigh, not enthused about the idea of spending the next hour fending off insults from the girl that still hadn't looked up from her nails. But it was her respect for her teacher that made her reluctantly agree to the absurd request.

"As usual you can wander the school, find a place you and your partner can brainstorm. Guidelines for this exercise are by the door on your way out," Holly instructed. "And no going into the girls' locker room," she chastised before anyone could go far. "I'm looking at you, Puckerman." The teacher exited the room, shortly followed by the rest of her students, only leaving the two girls in the now empty classroom.

Rachel swallowed dryly and brought a hand up, nervously fixing her fringe that hung neatly above her brow. She had begun to feel more than a little uncomfortable at being left alone with Santana, not even being able to hear the echo of her peers' footsteps down the hallway beyond the room. She chewed her lip, trying to ignore the silence and read the worksheet she had retrieved from the pile near the door. It seemed the exercise was to create a two-minute dialogue piece where you would each take turns impersonating the other and perform it during the next week's class.

When Rachel looked up from the page, Santana had her eyes down and was peering over her shoulder at the worksheet. The girl's lips were pursed in a tight line, but the slight glint in her eye told her Santana was enjoying making her feel uncomfortable. Rachel quickly scooted her chair over a few inches, causing it to screech across the linoleum floor and echo off the polished wood panels of the walls.

"I'm sorry if me being in your general vicinity repulses you, but there is no need to be rude," Santana said out of nowhere, startling Rachel. She stared back at her with wide eyes, slightly put out by her partner's sudden abruptness, briefly wondering if she was possibly bi-polar.

The corner of Santana's mouth started to quirk up after a few silent moments, and realisation hit Rachel. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Impersonating, actually," Santana corrected.

"I do not talk like that," Rachel said, furrowing her brow, her hands going nervously to the hem of her skirt.

"Tut tut, Berry. Stay in character," Santana remarked with a smirk. "And yes, you do."

Rachel composed herself, "Whatever. Not that I care, but we should probably think of a situation to go with this."

"Wow, that was uncanny. It was like looking in a mirror," Santana mocked, her eyes wide and glinting. "My impeccable talent was just shining through in that performance."

"I'm fairly certain the reason for this lesson wasn't just a poorly laid excuse to mock your partner."

"Well when you're paired with the Golden Girl of McKinley, why pass up the chance?" Santana had a huge smirk on her face, clearly enjoying this. Rachel looked pointedly at her in an effort to get her to take the task seriously but failed, Santana just continuing to sit there un-phased by her attempt at intimidation.

Rachel took in a deep breath, already feeling her impatience rising, "Can we please just get on with this?"

"Sure, how about we play it like an interview?" she suggested with a noncommittal shrug.

Rachel agreed as they had already wasted enough time as it was, and she didn't want to waste anymore arguing with the girl. "You're really talented. Does it just come naturally to you?" Rachel started, using the opportunity to talk herself up to her partner. "You know, the spotlight and the stage…"

"Well, when I asked God for a complex, he decided to give me a few other useful gems as well," Santana quipped, her dark hair brushing her chair as she sat back, that infuriating smirk still in place.

"Hold up, I don't think I'm better than anyone else," Rachel argued.

"You are _so_ straight edge," Santana stated simply, breaking out of character.

"No, I'm not!"

Santana snorted, "Okay, Berry. Exhibit A, Holly-"

"Ms Holiday."

"That right there is Exhibit_ B_. But A, _Holly _let's us go _anywhere_ in the school and you chose to stay here." Santana opened her arms wide that had previously sat across her chest to indicate the classroom they were currently in. She looked at her pointedly, waiting for a rebuttal.

Rachel huffed, getting agitated by this girl's self-righteous attitude. She'd heard Santana was opinionated and had no qualms about voicing those opinions, but she'd never met such a judgmental girl in her life.

"All the costumes and props are here, what reason do I have to leave. Besides, you'd just find some way to blow the lesson off if we were to venture outside the room."

Santana seemed to think about Rachel's words for a moment; probably imagining all of the ways she could indeed get out of doing the assignment. Instead, she turned serious. "So that's what you care about?" she asked her in an even tone. "Getting your perfect score? Getting out of Lima?"

Rachel looked at her as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. There wasn't a student at McKinley that didn't want that. But Santana laughed at this, and not out of amusement. She clearly disagreed with Rachel's mind set and priorities.

Instead of arguing with her further, Rachel decided to humour her. Just this once. "Okay, Miss 'I-Don't-Have-A-Goal-In-Life', where would you have gone?"

"Outside."

"We can't, Santana. It's raining, in case you hadn't noticed." Rachel was getting further irritated with the girl's lack of logic and work ethic when Santana stood swiftly from her chair.

"Yeah, I know." At this point it was only a faint echo from down the empty hall. Santana had already made her way out of the classroom and was nearing the front doors at the end of the hallway when Rachel poked her head around the corner, watching as the girl broke through the exit. Rachel rushed out of the room just as Santana escaped into the downpour beyond. She made her way passed the entryway, spotting her lying on her back, star fished on the footpath, droplets of rain already touching her bare arms.

"Santana, get back in here," Rachel whispered harshly for the protection of the awning surrounding the main building, fully aware of the fact that she sounded like a mother scolding her child.

"I'm fine where I am." Santana had her eyes closed against the rain, breathing in heavily. She was already drenched, her plain black singlet clinging to her chest and her fringe sticking messily to her forehead.

"How do you suppose were going to get any work done with you playing Rain Man?" Rachel edged. "And yes, I've seen the film and I know what I'm implying."

"Why not come here?"

"Are you insane?" Rachel faltered, realising who she was talking to, "Who am I kidding, of course you are."

This caused Santana to chuckle, and as annoying as the girl was, Rachel had to admit she had never heard anything so beautiful or carefree. But it didn't change the fact that they were losing time with this non-sense, and Rachel had never failed to complete class work in her life and she was damned if Santana was going to ruin her perfect record.

"Please, Santana," Rachel reasoned. "Can we just go back inside and finish this. We don't have to go back to the classroom, just somewhere preferably dry."

Santana sat up, bringing her knees to her chest and brushing her wet hair from her face, her black jeans stretching tight over her toned thighs.

"I'll make you a deal. You stay under the awning, I'll stay in my puddle, and I _promise_ to do the exercise with you."

Rachel sighed, conceding before sinking into a crossed legged position on the footpath. Santana shuffled along the wet concrete so that she was sitting face to face with her.

"Okay, do you want to stick with the interview scenario?" Rachel asked, getting straight to the point.

"I like this one."

Rachel cocked an eyebrow, confused. Which wasn't something that usually happened. But leave it up to Santana to be the one to do it.

"Me, out here in the pouring rain. And you, dry and safe under your little shelter."

Rachel caught the double meaning to Santana's words. Instead of ignoring them, she decided to go with it. Two could play at that game. "I don't give a fuck about my future."

"Well, I have a ten year plan. I have my perfect life and my perfect boyfriend. I'll marry him and he'll be my forever."

"But Lopez, wouldn't you rather live each day and not give a shit, it's _so_ rewarding?"

"But without a man, how would I validate myself? And without my Tony Awards how would I ever know if my life was a success or worth living?"

"Who needs awards when you have the benefit?"

Santana stiffened immediately at her words, a feeling like lead hitting Rachel's stomach; she knew she'd gone too far. Santana's situation wasn't exactly a secret at McKinley, so to shove it in her face as Rachel had just done and use it to hurt her to protect her own ego was a new low. She knew she was fortunate in all she had. So to tear someone down for not being born into that privilege wasn't exactly fair. It was known that the girl was from a single income home on the poorer side of Lima, whereas Rachel lived on the other side of town with Finn and all the other pretty and popular.

And as much as the remark seemed to hurt Santana, she didn't retaliate.

"San-"

"The bell's gonna go, we should head inside." And with that Santana got up and headed back toward the double doors. Rachel followed her, sticking back and listening to Santana's heavy boots squeak against the polished linoleum. She knew she shouldn't have said it. No one deserved to be shot down like that, having their circumstances shoved in their face.

Feeling another pang of guilt, Rachel reached out and gently grabbed Santana's wrist, her tanned skin slick with rainwater. The girl didn't flinch away from her touch, but rather just turned around and faced her with a dejected expression, her full lips pursed.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Rachel apologized, remorseful. "I wasn't thinking."

"Why be sorry, you were just being me." She gently retracted her arm and walked into the classroom, where Ms Holiday was typing away on her Blackberry.

"So, how did the assignment go, and also why are you wet?" Holly queried with an amused expression.

"Great," Santana responded, and further shocked Rachel by adding, "Therapeutic even."

"Turns out I didn't need to show her anything. She took the reigns on this one, no pun intended."

"Awesome, told you Drama was better than Spanish. That class is such a drag."

The girls took their seats, Santana deciding to sit next to their teacher; the furthest chair away from Rachel. For some reason this made her chest constrict slightly, which confused her. Why should she care, she doesn't even like the girl. She's judgmental and rude, and she doesn't care about anyone but herself. She's nothing.

But no matter how hard Rachel tried to convince herself and no matter the way she worded it, the tightness wouldn't go away. It stayed there, as stubborn as the girl that caused it.

The rest of the students started to wander back. A few glanced at Santana with quizzical looks, probably wondering why she was dripping water all over the floor. But most seemed to shrug it off as Santana being Santana, and took their seats again in the circle.

Kurt sat back down with a friendly smile on his face, Rachel's mind still elsewhere. "So how'd it go with Satan?" Kurt asked lightly. "I expect she tore you a new one. That's if she can even act."

Rachel hadn't taken her eyes off Santana since they re-entered the classroom. She shook her head with a huff, putting the sinking feeling down to pity, and nothing more.

"I actually held my own, thank you. I am Rachel Barbra Berry after all," she jested back, earning a chuckle from her best friend.

She didn't see it necessary to add that for the first time in her life she wasn't proud of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Fresh Pair Of Eyes**

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There were times, though few and far between, when Rachel wished she didn't breeze through classwork so easily. Times when she hoped just once that she could make it to the end of period and finish her work with the rest of the class. And this was one of those times. She sat in her chair in the second row and stared at the clock above the whiteboard, willing time to go faster. It was nearing the end of the school day and she had already completed the US History work the rest of her peers appeared to be struggling with.

Times like these always left her mind free to wander. Most days her thoughts would be of Finn; the next solo she would perform in Glee Club, Finn, Nationals in New York at the end of semester, Finn. But today was different. Surprisingly, Rachel was still thinking about Santana. She couldn't get her mind to stray from her for more than a few minutes at a time. It was infuriating since she hadn't cared to spend more than a few moments thought on her before today.

Normally, Rachel would just have to see her boyfriend and everything else would feel less important somehow, less daunting. But being the captain of the basketball team as well, he'd had a mid-season strategy meeting with his coach right after she'd left Drama with Kurt, Rachel missing her opportunity to see him before her next class.

So for the moment, her mind persisted to go back over what happened early that afternoon, like a constant loop. She wasn't able to shake the image of that hurt look on Santana's face. And the more Rachel thought on it, the more it began to confuse her. Yes, she went too far with her comment, and yes, she should know better, but why would Santana care what she thinks. Her. Rachel Berry. This was Santana Lopez, she didn't care about what _anyone_ thought. To Santana, Rachel was just another face in the crowd, another robot of the pretty and popular. But here she was caring about something that had been said to her so many times before. It was really nothing new.

Rachel shook her head, knowing she was reading too much into it, and knowing she was just trying to justify her own actions. She figured she would just talk with Santana tomorrow in seventh period Drama, clear the air between them. She knew she was doing it for selfish reasons, talking to Santana to relieve her own guilt, but she never claimed to be a saint.

When the bell finally rung, Rachel shot up from her seat and rushed out the door, smacking straight into Finn. She stumbled backwards, her boyfriend catching her arm and steadying her before she could fall.

"Hey you," he greeted with that lopsided grin Rachel couldn't resist. She melted easily into his embrace and his familiar smell, wrapping her arms around his waist.

_Santana who?_

The couple walked arm in arm to the gym just off the staff parking lot, Finn having basketball practice after school. Rachel sat in the bleachers watching him run suicides up and down the court with his teammates, some of the football team signing up after they'd won the State Championship Thanksgiving weekend. Rachel was surprised Kurt wasn't sitting on the bleachers with her, spotting Sam and that unruly blonde hair running side by side with Finn.

Pulling out her phone, Rachel took a quick candid of him and sent it to the boy, before going back to her Math homework that laid open in her lap. They'd just started studying Algebra, Rachel's concentration on an equation when her message tone went off, startling her. She'd received the typically snarky response from her best friend, finding he was at the Lima Bean with their friend, Blaine, having a post-study non-fat mocha, and for her to keep her hands off.

Rachel giggled, sending off a reply just as the coach blew the whistle for the end of training, the team shuffling off to the showers. Packing up her books, she slowly made her way to the parking lot to wait for Finn by his car. The sun was starting to set over the few cars that were still left in the lot when he jogged over to her 10 minutes later, his spiked hair wet with water and that grin on his lips.

It wasn't until they were buckled into his silver Volvo that Finn spoke up, the boy turning the key in the ignition. "So how was the rest of your day?" he asked as he pulled onto the highway.

"Pretty uneventful," Rachel fibbed. She had never been very good at lying to Finn and she could see that he'd picked up on her omission by the way his brow inched closer to his hairline.

"Actually, I got paired with Santana today in Drama class. It was pretty disastrous."

"Since when has Lopez done Drama," Finn asked, taking his eyes off the road. "Or gone to class?"

Rachel hit his shoulder playfully, giggling at her boyfriend's remark. He'd always had the ability to make her smile regardless of her mood. It was one of the many things she loved about him.

"She just transferred from Ms Holiday's Spanish class, which is odd since I suspect it was the only one she was getting straight A's in," Rachel mused. "Anyway, we were doing role playing exercise but as each other and I may have brought up her father."

Finn tore his eyes from the road again to look at Rachel. "What did she say to you?"

"Nothing, she took off." Rachel was again brought back to the memory of early that day, of the dejected look and how she refused to sit next to her.

"Before you mentioned her dad, I mean?"

Rachel thought for a moment, "She told me I needed you to validate myself and that I rate my worth against my success."

Finn took his hand off the shift and placed it on Rachel's knee, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Babe, she provoked you first. Just give it til tomorrow, I'm sure she'll cool off."

Rachel smiled at Finn, leaning over the handbrake and giving him a peck on the cheek. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he replied with a boyish grin.

They had reached the end of her long driveway, Finn shifting his car into park just behind Rachel's red Toyota Prius. Unbuckling themselves, they stepped out and made their way up the front steps of the porch, which extended along the entire front of her house.

Rachel never really thought anything of the grandeur of her home until today. It was big and spacious, much like all the houses on her drive. It had a grand white staircase that lead to the bedrooms on the second floor, with marble floors and plush carpets, and paintings and sculptures decorating most of the rooms. It was all that she knew. She grew up on this side of town, as did Finn. And she shamefully admitted to herself that she had never once set foot in Santana's neighbourhood, not even entirely knowing how to get there.

And now she was thinking about her again.

_That lasted a whole of five minutes._

As the pair entered the kitchen just off the front entrance, they were greeted by the smell of exotic herbs and garlic. Her dad, Leroy, considered himself a bit of a food connoisseur, taking any chance he got to cook one of his own creations.

"Hey, sweetie." Leroy embraced his daughter in a half arm hug, his other hand stirring the contents of a pot. "How was your day?"

"It was fine, nothing out of the ordinary." Rachel hoped this was good enough to convince her dad, as she really didn't want to go into the details. She was fairly certain both her dads knew Santana's father and she wasn't game to bring him up unnecessarily.

But Leroy seemed to accept this as gospel, and moved onto a different topic while he continued to stir tonight's dinner. "So Finn, you gonna snag us the win this Friday?"

"Yes, sir. We're four and oh, undefeated."

"Please, no sports talk before dinner, you two."

"Hi, Daddy." Rachel hugged the tall man as he came into the kitchen, her other dad, Hiram, having to bend slightly to embrace his only daughter.

"Nice to see you again, Finn," Hiram said over Rachel's head.

"You too, Mr Berry."

"Okay, okay, enough talk," Leroy remarked from behind the counter, plates of food balancing on his arms as he walked. "Everyone take a seat, dinner's ready."

The man ushered the three of them to the already set dining table in the adjacent room, placing the pasta dish and green salad in middle of the setting. After everyone took a seat and a plate, the meal continued with much of the same small talk and polite conversation. Finn had been over to the Berry's house for dinner so many times that the back and forth exchange of topics was second nature to him. Even at times joking light-heartedly with both her dads, which was an accomplishment in itself for a 17-year-old boy around a lawyer and a businessman. Rachel had never brought home a boy before Finn, not that there were any to speak of, but it was a relief when they instantly took to him and his somewhat goofy charm.

"I'll help you with the dishes, Mr Berry." Finn made a move to clear the table once they'd finished, but was stopped by a light hand from Leroy.

"Non-sense, you're our guest. Just leave the dishes to me and Hiram. You two go do what normal teenagers do."

"If you're sure."

Rachel pecked her dad on the cheek and thanked him for dinner, before grabbing Finn's hand and leading him up to her room on the second floor. It was much like the rest of the house; grand, white. Only instead of paintings, her walls held framed posters of inspirational actresses, some autographed, and Broadway musicals she hoped to one day star in.

The pair laid back on her large four-poster bed, snuggling into each other as they pressed play of the DVD player. But 20 minutes into the movie Rachel still felt the need to continue their conversation from the car.

"So you don't think she'll still be mad? Not that it matters," she feigned nonchalance.

"Who?" Finn asked, tearing his eyes from the TV.

"Santana."

"Nah, it's fine. Puck got into it with her a few months ago, they were back talking the next day," he assured her, his attention still on the film. Rachel let her tension ease a little at Finn's words and tried to enjoy the musical they were watching.

Her boyfriend was so whipped.

Finn left later that night, giving her a kiss goodnight as she saw him off at the front door. It was always the same. They had dinner, watched a movie, and then he left only to return the next day to take her to school.

It was nice.

Simple.

As Rachel buckled her seatbelt the next morning, Finn was smiling that half smirk, his eyes drifting over her features.

"What is it?" she asked, her stomach turning into butterflies. "Do I look okay?" Rachel raked her hands through her dark shoulder length hair, her eyes shifting to the navy blue dress she had on; Finn's favourite.

"You're beautiful."

"Thanks," Rachel replied sheepishly, a red flush beginning on her cheeks as she bit her bottom lip and looked out her window.

"Right," Finn cleared his throat, looking back at the road. "School?" Rachel nodded, the boy pulling off her drive and onto the suburban street.

Once they arrived, the couple headed to homeroom, sitting down next to an overdressed Kurt and Blaine, and waited patiently for the pointless class to finish. Rachel always wondered the purpose of the allotted time period since the teacher would just mark attendance again before each of their classes. But being Rachel she still attended, going over her Biology homework for next period.

After the bell rang, Finn walked her to class, kissing her goodbye outside the door. Rachel heaved a content sigh, watching him leave before turning into the science lab only to halt to an abrupt stop just inside the entrance, the colour draining from her features. Sitting at her usually empty lab bench was Santana, the girl looking up from her notepad and meeting her sure to be wide gaze. Rachel was fairly certain a red flush had started creeping up her neck, Santana cocking a playful eyebrow.

Slowly making her way to her seat, Rachel tried to avoid all eye contact with the girl. She wasn't mentally prepared; she was hoping to have until at least seventh period before she had to see her. This was too soon. Too sudden.

_Shit._

Keeping her eyes forward, she took her seat next to Santana and opened her textbook to the day's lesson. The more than awkward silence that had begun between them was deafening; Rachel could feel the girl's dark eyes burning a hole in the side of her head.

"Why are you in this class?" Rachel turned to see Santana with her head rested against her hand, looking at her with a rather intense light to her eyes. Rachel had to admit that it was kind of unsettling, having to look away after a moment.

"Well, when you transfer out of one elective and into another, it kinda screws up your timetable." Rachel nodded thoughtfully as she fiddled with the cover of her textbook, giving her hands something to do. "My old Biology class is the same time as Drama. Holly had to pull a few strings to get Figgins to agree to this whole thing," Santana finished with a shrug. She went back to her notepad, sketching something nonsensical in the margin of her work.

Glancing at her wristwatch, Rachel noted there were still a few minutes before class began, figuring she might as well get this over with now since they were to be lab partners for the next four months.

"Look, Santana," she started, turning to face her. "About yesterd-"

"I know what you're gonna say, so save it," Santana interrupted, not looking up from her sketch. "You're right about one thing, I live for today. Not so sure on the not giving a shit part, jury's still out. So you're off the hook, Berry."

The tightness that Rachel had been carrying since their Drama class finally dissipated; Finn was right, this girl was like a yo-yo. "With that outlook I'm surprised you're not more popular."

"Who needs friends when you have the benefit?"

Rachel's heart sunk again for the second time in the past 24 hours, "I guess I deserved that."

She was never going to live this down.

"Deserve what?" Santana asked, confused. "I'm being serious."

Rachel paused a moment before she caught on to the innuendo, her eyes going wide. "Oh, wow...okay."

The flush came back to her neck in full force, colouring her cheeks, as Rachel diverted her gaze from the other girl. She didn't like the way Santana was looking at her right now, like she was an innocent lamb she was about to corrupt. It made Rachel feel uneasy, light nerves breaking out in her stomach.

"Well as riveting as this has been, I have a date with the Chronic Lady." Santana suddenly got up from the tall bench, screeching her chair across the polished cement floor.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Rachel asked, incredulous.

"I only stay 'til attendance." Santana said this as if she was merely telling Rachel her favourite colour.

"You can't leave, we're lab partners now." Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing. "How are you even in Biology? _Advanced Placement_ Biology?"

"I like to keep my options open. And besides, you were doing them on your own before I was transferred," Santana shrugged. "Don't worry, Berry. I'll be back before Mr Jamerson even notices I'm gone."

With a little bounce to her step, Santana exited the room, snatching the novelty size hall pass from the teacher's lab bench as she left. Rachel stared after her until she had disappeared completely from view, still in slight shock.

_This girl can't be serious._

Rachel wondered how long she was going to have to put up with this behaviour from Santana. She seemed determined to ruin her perfect record at this school, and she'd only known her a day.

Something was still unsettling about this whole truancy situation. Rachel knew Santana wasn't exactly the poster child for attendance, but it begged the question: why'd she stay for the whole of Drama class yesterday?

_And who's the Chronic Lady?_

* * *

It had been 35 minutes since Santana's abrupt exit from Biology, and she still hadn't made her reappearance, the ringing of the second period bell resounding in Rachel's ears. She looked anxiously to the door at the front of the room, her foot bouncing impatiently off one of the metal supports of her chair. Mr Jamerson had been adamant that both partners were to be present to hand in the course work each class, or it would cost them five percent of the grade, since part marks were given for participation.

God must have really had it in for Rachel this week, and she could only see it getting worse as it was still only Tuesday.

_I'm going to kill that girl._

During her musings, Santana had re-entered the classroom and flopped herself down in her seat, looking rather spacey. Rachel was surprised that Mr Jamerson didn't bat an eye at her obvious absence, Santana not even making at effort to be discrete about her entrance.

"Where have you been?" she whispered, her eyes darting to the front of the room. Their teacher was still rambling on about mitosis, his back to the lab benches and his arm outstretched, drawing a diagram on the whiteboard.

"Talkin' to Lady C." Santana swayed slightly on her stool, her legs swinging back and forth. "She says _hi_, by the way." No longer able to keep a straight face, she broke out into a fit of giggles, Rachel watching as she nearly toppled off the back of her chair.

Glancing at the teacher, Rachel made sure he wasn't looking their way as she made an attempt to steady her lab partner, thanking God her bench was toward the back of the room. She had seen Puck enough times at post-game parties to know what was going on.

"Santana, please tell me you did not just spend the last 35 minutes toking up in the girls' bathroom," she asked earnestly.

"I promise you, Berry, I wasn't 'toking up' in the girls' bathroom. I'm not that stupid." Santana used air quotations for emphasis, Rachel looking at her sceptically. "I was in my car. Much easier to hotbox," she finished with another bout of giggles.

"Do you find something amusing, Miss Lopez," came Mr Jamerson's grating voice from the front of the room. "Perhaps you would like to share it with the class."

"I would, but there's none left-"

Rachel sent a sharp elbow into Santana's rib cage, the girl banging the hand that wasn't clutching her stomach loudly on the lab bench, whimpering.

"Sir, I don't think she's feeling very well. I could take her to the nurse, if you like?" Rachel put on her best innocent face, trying to ignore Santana, who was still wheezing silently beside her.

"I think you broke a rib," she breathed, only loud enough for Rachel to fight off a smirk.

* * *

She put it down to being his star pupil that got Mr Jamerson to say yes to the suggestion. No teacher in their right mind would have believed it was a mere case of mono, especially a Biology teacher. No one was that stupid, with the exception of Santana.

The pair were halfway to the nurse's office when Rachel remembered they didn't actually have a school nurse in post. Ever since Terry Schuester, Mr Schuester's ex-wife, had gotten fired for supplying minors with copious amounts of over the counter drugs, and due to budget cuts, Principal Figgins hadn't been able to keep a nurse in the position for more than a week at one time.

Rachel merely shrugged, deciding she might as well take her to the office as it was sure to be empty, and there was no way she was taking her back to class in her current state.

"I'm fine," Santana grumbled. The girl was leaning up against the glass wall beside the office, Rachel swinging the door wide.

"You are not fine, you're as high as kite."

"Believe me, I'm sober now." Rachel just stared at her, ushering her inside. "I think getting punched in the baby maker does that to a girl." Santana staggered over to the bed in the corner of the room, pulling aside the curtain and sitting down on the plastic wrapped lounger.

"I didn't get you that low," Rachel scoffed.

"Berry, I'm pretty sure you traumatized my left ovary." Rachel couldn't help but laugh. As infuriating as Santana was, she did have a way with words. "Oh my god, is that a smile? Someone call the Vatican, or whatever the Jew form of that is."

Rachel picked up a small pillow from the couch she was sitting on and threw it in her general direction, copping the other girl right in the face.

"Unnecessary."

"Do you want another?" Rachel threatened lifting the other cushion above her head, cocking a playful eyebrow. "Truce?"

"Clean slate?" Santana offered, placing the previously thrown pillow on her lap. "We clearly don't know anything about each other."

"Clearly."

"I'm not going to admit that I judged you harshly yesterday. But in a way I guess I was asking for it when you said…what you said."

Rachel smiled to herself, thinking that this was as close to an apology she was ever going to hope to receive from Santana. So she accepted, not wanting to push her luck. "I better get back to Biology, I told Mr Jamerson I was just dropping you off. One of us needs to hand in the course work," Rachel jested, light-hearted.

She had made a move toward the exit, her hand on the door handle when Santana spoke again. "I will admit you have a life most would _kill _for, Berry. Come to me when you want to start living it."

Rachel eyed her but didn't take the bait, giving her one lasted glance before yanking the door open and leaving the room that had suddenly become stifling.

* * *

Rachel sat in the crowded quad near the school's gym with Kurt, taking a bite of her apple every now and then, her mind far from the wooden lunch table she was sharing with her best friend.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Kurt asked, chewing absently on his granola bar.

They were still on Santana if truth be told, the girl and her words consuming her all through her third period Music class and all through lunch. Spending those few minutes with her in the nurse's office had made Rachel really start to second-guess herself.

"Do you think I take things too seriously?"

"Whoa, where did that come from?" the boy enquired, a little surprised.

"I don't know, I just…I'm fun, right?" she asked, toying with her apple core. "I mean, Finn and I, we're not like…boring, are we?"

"Disgustingly so."

"Kurt!"

He dodged Rachel's tiny fist before it could collide with his shoulder, causing what was left of his muesli bar to slip to the ground. "Hey, hey, I'm kidding. Of course you're not. _Geez_, crazy girl."

Rachel sighed, going back to her own head again.

"Why do I get the feeling this has something to do with a certain brunette?"

"That's cause you are the biggest gossip in school and can't help making everything into a Soap Opera."

"Not one of those words were _no, Kurt, this is not about Santana_," he grinned, twisting in his seat as Rachel stood up with a small shake of her head.

"We have class."

* * *

Rachel walked with Kurt into seventh period Drama just as the bell sounded, expecting to see Santana's cocky smirk staring at her from their seats across the room. But a quick survey of the circle of chairs found that she was nowhere to be seen, Rachel feeling a slight pang of sadness hit her chest. She didn't want to admit it to herself but she was rather looking forward to seeing her again. She really didn't want to go into why, they weren't even friends. Sure they had been friendly to each other in the nurse's office, but that didn't mean anything. Santana said it herself. She didn't do friends, figuratively speaking. And the more the afternoon dragged on the more it looked like Santana had just ditched the class all together, the stubborn sinking feeling in her chest not dissipating.

_Stupid. _

As the school day was coming to a close, Rachel was finding it hard to keep her attention on the class, the other students presenting Shakespeare monologues as part of the state's standard teaching. Ms Holiday insisted she needed get through Hamlet and Macbeth before she could continue to teach the more risqué modern material in the syllabus.

The bell rung just as Kurt was finishing his Ophelia monologue in complete 11th century garb, the boy taking a quick bow and rushing for his book bag. Everyone else had made a move for the door in unison, biding farewell to their teacher on the way out.

Rachel was the last to leave, wandering out into the parking lot to find Finn waiting for her perched on the hood of his car. She quickly hopped in the passenger seat and buckled up, before glancing briefly in the rear view, Rachel's stomach lurching. Sitting under a tree near the quad was the girl she'd spent the better part of the day thinking about, those dark eyes looking in their direction. But Rachel didn't get a chance to take a second look, Finn revving the engine and tearing out of the lot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: You And Me And One Spotlight**

* * *

"Oh no, you are not going anywhere. Not this time."

Rachel grabbed Santana by the wrist before she could get far from her seat, the jolting action forcing the girl back down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Santana asked, turning to her, bewildered.

"You are not ditching today," Rachel replied simply, releasing her grip. "You are going to pair up with me, and you are going to like it."

"Aggressive," Santana murmured with a raised brow. "I like it."

It had been exactly two weeks since the nurse's office, and ever since the pair's unexpected friendship had grown. Every time Rachel had walked into her Biology class or fifth period Drama, Santana would already be seated, looking up at her with that smirk on her lips. It had almost become routine. And after two weeks of those teasing eyes and that smile and the infuriating way the girl seemed to be able to get under her skin, Rachel had all but welcomed it, feeling an odd ache in her chest whenever she didn't see her.

But by no means had the last 14 days been smooth sailing. They bickered with each other constantly, both of the girls' stubbornness preventing either from agreeing on anything. Rachel's frustration with Santana frequently got the better of her as well. She could even argue that all their botched Biology experiments were entirely her fault. The girl seemed more interested in seeing if the frog could dance the Nut Bush than compiling the details of its anatomy. Rachel was surprised Mr Jamerson hadn't flunked both of them for the grief Santana had put him through the past couple of weeks.

But if truth were told Rachel honestly hadn't laughed as hard or enjoyed a class as much since…ever. It had made all the bickering worth it.

She didn't think nor would she ever admit to taking Santana up on her offer_,_ even refusing to acknowledge the fact when the girl teased her about it. But she had definitely changed her tone toward her. Even Kurt had noticed, broaching the subject early that day in fifth period English, voicing his mild displeasure for the newfound friendship.

"All I'm saying is be careful," Kurt had said in a hushed tone as Mr Zillmere wrote on the blackboard. "Shoot me for caring."

"It's not that I don't appreciate your concern, I do. I just find it unnecessary," she'd stated flatly. She'd kept her eyes to the front, copying down the teacher's notes, trying to end a conversation she frankly didn't wish to be having in the middle of English class.

"Santana's bad news, Rachel. She has a reputation for a reason," he'd continued in a whisper. "That reason not being so you can live out your dream of being the Thelma to her Louise."

"And I'm telling you, she's not like that. Given she may have a problem with attendance and an unorthodox attitude towards authority, but she has some redeeming qualities as well, Kurt."

"Like what?" the boy had asked, cynical. "She's shown an interest in someone besides herself?"

"Look, whatever reservations you have with her are your own," Rachel had said, finally looking at her best friend. "But until she gives me a reason to doubt her, I'm going to continue to hang out with her. Okay?"

"When it all goes bad, and it will, don't say I didn't warn you." His words hadn't been said in anger; Kurt seemed genuinely worried for his friend, if a little worn. He'd given her arm a reassuring squeeze before returning his attention to the front of the class.

Finn had witnessed the entire exchange from his seat a few rows away. But if he had an opinion on the subject he hadn't voiced it, Rachel watching as he's eyes diverted back to his notebook and away from hers.

Now in seventh period Drama, having finished with Hamlet the previous week they were moving onto Grease. Holly was waving what appeared to be a script in her hand, attempting to get everyone enthusiastic about the assignment. "_And_ if all goes to plan it'll be consider for this year's musical."

Being well informed about the theatre programs in the other school districts, Rachel raised her hand attentively, "Ms Holiday, I'm not sure Grease is exactly appropriate. With the teenage pregnancy and underage drinking, not to mention the sexual content and subtle gang affiliation. A school in Texas tried to do a production of similar themes and it caused mass outrage across the state."

"Well yes, that's true," Holly reasoned with a noncommittal nod. "And it _would_ be wildly inappropriate if this weren't a public school and if I weren't me."

Quite laughter broke out amongst her other students as Holly shot her a light-hearted grin, Rachel laughing along with them. She was rather excited about getting the chance to perform the popular musical, so she didn't argue further, letting Ms Holiday continue the day's lesson.

"Now this is traditionally a male female scene we're going to perform today, so pair up with a member of the opposite sex and lets get all hormonal up in here!"

This time a nervous laughter rippled through the room instead. Everyone appeared to begin eyeing off possible partners at their teacher's request as Rachel quickly scanned the circle of chairs. "Ms Holiday, I hate to point out but there are eight boys and ten girls in this class."

"Is that you volunteering, Rachel?"

"Excuse me?" Rachel's voice rose up an octave, suddenly regretting roping Santana into a partnership. She could feel those dark eyes on her as she forced herself to keep her own forward.

"Relax, you can adjust the script for this exercise so it's more gender neutral." Holly reasoned. "Think you can handle that?"

"Sure," Rachel nodded. "Of course, Ms Holiday."

"Alright then."

Holly began passing out the two page scripts to each of the pairs that had naturally formed around the circle. As she received their copy, Rachel's eyes went wide at the scene her teacher had chosen.

_Shit._

Rachel scolded herself, taking in a deep breath. She was being completely irrational. Like Ms Holiday had said, she was able to make adjustments where she saw fit. Still, there were only so many changes a person could make to the infamous drive-in scene, her mind going over how potentially intimate certain parts of the script could become. But her thoughts were exactly that. Irrational. Santana could be a bit flirty at times. Inappropriate even. But she wasn't gay. She was like that with everyone.

"I've never actually seen it."

Santana's words pulled Rachel out of her thoughts and had her turning to her in disbelief. "It's the biggest movie musical of all time, how have you not seen it?" she asked, her brow knitted. "Do you live under a rock?"

"Sweetie, no. It's a low-set three bedroom just off the highway," Santana mocked, placing a condescending hand to Rachel's knee, "Backs onto the creek near the old skating rink." Rachel merely groaned at that infuriating smirk, whacking her hand away as the girl stifled a laugh. "I just try to steer clear of movies that don't involve scantily clad girls being dismembered."

"Well you're going to have to see it now or this class isn't going to make much sense to you. Nor will the school musical if you decide to audition or attend."

Santana was about to respond when Ms Holiday started ushering students out of the classroom, cutting off their conversation. "Okay, people. Find a spot with your partner, rehearse the scene for the first half of the lesson and then come back here for eighth period so we can all see what you've come up with."

Both girls stood from their seats with the rest of the class and wandered out into the hall, script in hand. Turning the first corner, Santana started to veer to the right toward the front doors and out into the quad when Rachel grabbed her gently by the hand and steered her to the left.

"It's raining again, and frankly I prefer my underwear to stay dry." Santana opened her mouth, but Rachel cut her off before she could comment on her word choice. "We'll go to the auditorium. No one else ever rehearses in there, I guess it make too much sense."

Realizing she was still holding onto her hand, Rachel let it drop and started toward the doors of the auditorium, leaving Santana to follow her. Taking a deep breath as she walked, Rachel discretely rubbed her palm on her skirt, trying to rid the subtle tingling left behind by the girl's touch.

Once inside, both made their way to the stage, weaving through the rows of seats and pulling themselves up onto the polished wood. The spotlights were still on from the lunchtime Glee Club meeting, Rachel arranging two chairs underneath the harsh light, facing them toward the pews so they were looking out into the empty auditorium.

"Why change it?" Santana asked suggestively once they'd taken their seats.

Rachel kept her eyes on the script in her hands; already knowing how close the other girl would be to her ear. She had become accustom to Santana and her complete lack of personal boundaries over the past two weeks, not needing to see those lips to know they were within grazing distance. "Because as sexy as you think you are, Santana, I don't think even you could pull off a handlebar moustache."

"Is this a play or a porno?" Santana exclaimed, snatching the script from Rachel's hands and leafing though the few pages of dialogue.

"I'm just kidding, I'm kidding. Danny doesn't have a moustache," Rachel giggled. "He's only 17, _which_ you would know if you had seen the film."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Santana mumbled. "I still don't think anything we come up with will be better than what's written here. We can even change the ending if you're so worried I'll cop a feel."

Rachel looked at her as she adjusted her Burberry plaid skirt, slightly nervous and more than a little wary. Those eyes were making it hard to say no to her, Rachel beginning to consider just going with what was in her hand rather than her head. This trend of caving to her usually led to school rules being broken, and it was slowly becoming a rather dangerous pattern.

"Fine," Rachel huffed.

But no sooner had the word left her mouth that a tanned arm slumped over her shoulders. Rachel stiffened, Santana's fingers grazing her collarbone lightly. "Um, I really don't think this is exactly the most appropriate congratulatory hug moment-"

"Script, Berry."

Santana's eyes darted to the piece of paper in her lap, Rachel mumbling an _oh_ in realization, before settling into her chair and shaking her off. "Oh come on, Sandy. I told you on the phone I was sorry," Santana recited, letting her arm drop.

"I know that you did."

Rachel kept her eyes forward, Santana shifting in her seat to face her more fully. The harsh glare from the spotlight above framed them both in a blue haze, turning their skin a strange shade of green and catching in their hair.

"Well you believe me, don't you?"

"Well, yes. But I still think that you and Cha Cha went together."

Santana snorted, "There's a chick named Cha Cha in this thing?"

"It's a nickname. She's the best dancer at her school. Again, you're going to have to see the movie," Rachel said, a little exasperated, "Can we finish the scene, please?"

"Okay, okay," Santana agreed, looking back down at the script. "We didn't _go_ together, Sandy. We just _went_ together, that's all…wow, that sounded redundant."

"Same thing." Rachel spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep her friend focused.

"No, no, no, no, no…" her voice trailed off as she shook her head lightly, Rachel turning to look pointedly at Santana, knowing what cue was coming for the girls.

"You are so not hitting me. Don't even try it."

"Come on, Berry. It'll be like a little love tap," she said encouragingly, dismissing her concern as she proceeded to remove one of her many rings from her left hand.

The small band slipped easily off one of her slender fingers, the girl's elbow lightly nudging Rachel a little too close to her chest than what she was overall comfortable with. But she just stared back at her partner while she apologized, trying to sound sincere through her glee.

"Sandy, would you wear my ring?"

It was a small black and silver band, the precious metal woven intricately together. It gleamed a pale blue in the stage light, Rachel taking the offered ring, "Oh, Danny. I don't know what to say?"

"Well, say yes."

"Yes, I do."

She held her hand up to the light, admiring the simple yet detailed ring, before clutching it to her chest. "Oh Danny, this means so much to me. 'Cause I know now that you respect me."

"…ah-chew."

Rachel giggled as Santana spoke the sneeze, her arm taking its place on her shoulders again, this time with a little more weight. She had to force her mind to remember her cue; the way Santana inched in closer making her stomach lurch with nerves the size of Mothra.

"I hope you're not getting a cold," Rachel cooed, applying the right amount of faux concern. She glanced at Santana, meeting her eyes as she spoke her line, both girls smiling briefly at each other. Their tone had started bordering on the other side of theatrical as they became more comfortable with their characters, making it harder to keep a straight face as they ran their lines.

"Oh no, it's just a little driving dust," Santana dismissed with an overzealous wave of her hand. "That's all."

Rachel muted a giggle as Santana's expression changed to something she couldn't quite place. She saw it in the subtle way her features dropped, and how her eyes seemed to appear darker in the strange blue light. It made her nerves flare again, Rachel swallowing dryly. She felt that soft touch move lower on her shoulder, long fingers resting lightly just above the swell of her left breast.

"Santana!" Rachel shrieked, her eyes darting to her wandering hand. Santana just laughed and stretched further, Rachel pushing her off and shuffling over as far as her chair would allow, almost losing her balance.

"Sandy! Oh, Sandy!" Santana exclaimed, leaning forward and successfully toppling them both out of their seats, crashing them to the stage floor.

Both girls landed with a dull thud and a soft groan, Rachel beginning to laugh as the pages of the script floated to the ground around them. The sound bubbled behind her lips, the sheer dramatics of it all sending her over the edge. She let her head fall back against the hardwood, taking a breath as her laughter settled. She could feel Santana laughing with her, the petite girl's dark cotton singlet pressing against Rachel's palms and her laughter rumbling against her chest.

_Wait…_

Rachel's breath hitched, finally feeling the gentle weight of the other girl bearing down on her.

Santana was breathing heavy as she propped herself up with her hands on either side of Rachel's head. Her expression had turned serious as the last of her laughter died in her throat; as if her mind was only in that moment, yet a part of her was somewhere else.

After a thick silence, she seemed to unconsciously lean down, edging closer to Rachel's lips. "Santana, what are you doing?" Rachel began to panic as the reality of the situation hit her. "Get off, you said we would cut this scene out."

The serious look Santana sported changed into her signature grin, seeming to have snapped out of her momentary revere. "Don't worry about it, nobody's watching."

"I'm serious, Santana." Rachel pushed lightly on her shoulders, trying to get her to budge. "It's not funny anymore." Santana relented with a sigh, sitting up on her knees and letting Rachel get to her feet. "I think the bell for eighth period's going to go soon, we better get back." Her voiced cracked as she spoke, both of them knowing they still had at least 15 minutes before they needed to return.

She unconscious racked her hands through her hair, before turning toward the exit of the auditorium, leaving Santana kneeling on the stage floor.

* * *

Rachel was distracted by her thoughts after she left Drama, so much so that she didn't notice Finn waiting outside the classroom, nearly running head on into his tall frame. He steadied her with a grin, Rachel righting herself and giving him a half smile as she let him steer her toward the gym.

"How was your day?"

"It was okay." Rachel tried to sound convincing, slipping a hand around her boyfriend's waist and underneath his letterman jacket. "We finished Hamlet in Drama which is a plus."

Finn glanced down at her as they walked the crowded hallway, meeting her eye and giving his signature _there's something you're not telling me _look. "Don't worry about it, Finn. It was just Santana being Santana."

The girls had returned to the classroom to find it relatively empty. Both Kurt and Mercedes had chosen to stay behind to rehearse, the pair looking up at them mid-scene as they entered the room, slightly confused. Rachel had just smiled at them politely and taken her seat, Santana following in after her.

She'd shot glances at Rachel every now and again while they waited for the rest of their peers, the girl being able to see them from her peripheral. But she ignored her, not letting Santana attempt to broach or elaborate on what had happened in the auditorium. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what had gone through her mind in that moment. The thought scared her for reasons she didn't wish to think about or dwell on in any capacity.

The bell had thankfully rung with three couples still to perform, her and Santana being one of them. She didn't know if she could have re-enacted that scene in front of her friends. There was something about Santana that made her nervous, or at least what she had convinced herself were just nerves. Either way she didn't trust her not to do anything stupid in front of the class just to get a rise out of them or give them a show.

"About that, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Finn sounded like the perfect concerned boyfriend and it made Rachel's chest ache.

"Not you, too. Kurt already read me the Riot Act."

"I don't know what that is," Finn stated with a confused expression. They had reached the front doors of the gym when he stopped to look at her. "Look, I'd just hate to see you put your faith in her just to be let down."

Rachel stretched up her hand, running her fingers through his hair. "Don't worry, I can look after myself."

He grinned, leaning down slightly to kiss her forehead, "I believe you."

"And besides, people seriously have the wrong idea about her. From what I can see she's nothing like the reputation she holds. Far from it."

"I love you." Finn gave his girlfriend another kiss before turning to head toward the boys' locker room. "See you in there."

Rachel watched him leave, before pushing open the double doors to the McKinley gym and taking her spot in the stands while she waited patiently for the JV team to take the court for their two-hour practice. She tried to attend at least once a week, taking extra schoolwork to keep her occupied. It wasn't as if they were all that interesting, but she knew how happy it made Finn.

Her boyfriend noticed her presence from the polished hardwood as he jogged onto the court, waving up at her and shooting Rachel a lopsided grin. She was about to wave back when she heard giggling coming from the other side of the court closer to the bleachers. Rachel could easily spot the commotion and had to hold in a laugh of her own, shaking her head lightly.

Santana was standing at the back of the McKinley Cheerios' line-up, mimicking their cheers much to the chagrin of some of the girls and the delight of others. Rachel watched her closely, closing her US History homework that was open on her lap. She was being overly enthusiastic about her movements, yelling a_ go team_ every now and then, her arms thrust in the air above her head. Rachel noted that she wasn't half bad, looking on in surprise.

"Lopez!" Coach Sylvester screeched through her bullhorn. "Get your fanny out of my practice. You're distracting my Cheerios."

"Yes, sir," Santana saluted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Brittany, the vice-captain of the squad, turned around with a playful smile in Santana's direction, biting at her lip and giving her a small wave. But the head cheerleader, Quinn, scolded her, yanking back on the taller girl's arm and scowling at Santana.

The girl just ignored her, blowing them both a kiss in response as she walked off the court, spotting Rachel in the stands and wandering over to where she was seated. Rachel swallowed dryly as she approached, nerves rising high in her chest. "Here to watch me practice, Berry?"

"Uh, no. I'm here for Finn," Rachel said pointing to her man as he made free throw after free throw from the top of the key. "Besides, you're not even on the squad."

"Details," Santana said dismissively, as she took a seat next to Rachel on the long bench.

Rachel re-opened her notebook, fiddling with her pen, her eyes not quite looking at Santana. "So, what's up with you and Brittany?" She aimed for nonchalance, just missing her mark. "Are you like friends or something?"

"What do you mean?" The look in her eye told Rachel she knew _exactly_ what she meant, the girl leaning back on her elbows, a black boot propped up on the stand in front of them.

"I saw the way she looked at you," she prompted.

"Jealousy?"

"Curiosity."

"Well, let's just say I prefer to do moves on them, not with them."

"Okay, now that is a mental image I did not need."

_I guess that answers the gay question. _

Rachel closed her eyes trying to rid her mind of the vivid visual, her cheeks going red. "You're picturing me naked, aren't you?" Santana's eyes were alight with an evil grin in place. Rachel's face flushed further as she tried to look anywhere but at the girl sitting next to her. "It's okay, Berry. Fantasize away, I don't mind."

"Of course you don't. And would you mind not calling me Berry. I have a name you know," she stressed, trying desperately to change topics. Santana just gave her a look that was asking a silent _really_, the girl's brow inching closer to her hairline."I just figured since were sort of friends now you could at least call me by my first name," Rachel explained further, trying desperately to compose herself.

"Is that what you think we are?"

Now it was her turn to give Santana the look, nudging her with her right knee. "Fine," she relented, running her tongue lightly across her teeth. "Rachel."

The infliction she placed on it sent a slight chill down her spine. Rachel hated to admit it but it sounded almost…sexy. She covered herself with a mumbled_ thanks_, but the look Santana was giving her said her reaction hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Well as interesting as this had been," Santana started, sitting up straighter.

"Let me guess, you have to go," Rachel finished.

"Don't worry, I'll be here all week," she comforted with faux concern. She got up from her spot on the bleachers, and started walking down the steps and onto the basketball court.

"That sounded like a promise," Rachel called after her, receiving a quiet chuckle in response.


End file.
